Page 34 of Rev

I grew up in one of the worst council estates in England. At least, that’s what it felt like when I was a youngen. There were no second chances for Hades, and me. We did what we needed to do. We begged, borrowed, and stole. That’s what we were taught by the man we called our father.

We didn’t want to get involved in that shitty life, but there wasn’t any way out. Our father would send us on jobs so we could earn our keep, as he called it, and after Ma died, we didn’t have anyone to keep us on the straight and narrow.

My brother and I ran away from home when we were sixteen, but our innocence was already lost by then. We found ourselves in Newcastle, a city where we could disappear. Our father didn’t know where we were, so he couldn’t send his men to find us and bring us back. He may have been feared close to home, but outside the city limits, he was a nobody.

As I stand over the man sprawled on the floor, the air in the warehouse is thick with tension and the acrid scent of blood. The moonlight shimmering through the broken windows casts a ghostly light over the scene, illuminating the crimson pool spreading beneath him. My father’s breaths are ragged, each one a stark reminder of his fading life. My heart is pounding, and there’s a mix of adrenaline and grim satisfaction coursing through my veins.

This is retribution.

“You never amounted to anything, either of you,” Dad gasps. “I always knew you wouldn’t. Becomin’ a fuckin’ priest, Hadrian. What the fuck is that all about, son? Then both of you end up joining a fuckin’ motorcycle club.” His dark stare flicks between my brother and me.

I look down at my father, and all I see is a stranger. A bastard who doesn’t deserve to live.

“You’re going to pay for your sins,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice steady. I don’t want him to see how much control he still has over me.

“Aye,” he spits out. “Let me pay, then,” he challenges with a dark chuckle, but I can hear in his voice that he’s growing weaker and weaker.

He’s always claimed he’s not afraid to die. When we were children, he would often tell us he was ready for death when the time came. But as much as I hate this man, I waver.

Hades steps forward, and leaning over our father’s broken body, he spits right in his face. “You’re a feckin’ disgrace,” my brother tells him. “A poor excuse for a father. You should never have been allowed to have children.”

Our father’s eyes, once so full of menace, now flicker with fear and desperation. He tries to lift a hand, as if to plead, but it falls limply to his side, the strength sapped from his body.

“Hadrian,” he croaks my name, his voice becoming a weak, trembling whisper.

I take a step closer, my boots squelching in the blood-soaked concrete. The sight of him, broken and helpless, should disturb me, but all I feel is a cold, righteous fury. For years, he tormented us, cast a dark shadow over our lives. He tried to control us, to bend us to his will. But never again. Tonight, it ends.

“You’re the only one who’s a disappointment,” I say, my voice low and steady. Each word is deliberate, hammering the final nails into the coffin of his power, and punctuated with a punch or kick from Hades or me. “You’ve always been a feckin’ disappointment.”

Our father flinches, a pathetic whimper escaping his lips. There’s no sympathy in me, no room for mercy. He deserves every ounce of pain and every lost drop of blood. My hand, slick with his life force, clenches into a fist. This is justice.

“You thought you could get your twisted revenge by destroying Hunt and his organisation,” I continue, taking another step closer. “But you were wrong. And now you’ll pay for all the violence you showed us—each whip of the belt, slap across the face, and kick to the gut. Death is the only fair punishment for everything you did to us or made us do and the vengeance you tried to wreak on Hunt.”

His eyes widen, and a flicker of emotion passes through them—regret, perhaps, but it’s too late for that. The years of manipulation, the cruelty, it all ends here. He tries to speak, but his words are a garbled mess, lost in the gurgle of blood bubbling at his lips.

I kneel beside him, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Look at me,” I command, and to my surprise, he does.

There’s a flicker of defiance in his eyes, a last vestige of the man who once believed himself invincible. But it’s fading, just like his life.

“Hades and I are free now,” I say, my voice quieter but no less firm. “You’ve lost. And you’ll never hurt us again.”

I deal him one final kick to his side as Hades drives a knife into his chest.

Our father coughs, a wet, hacking sound, and more blood spills from his mouth. His breaths are shallow now, each one a struggle. I watch as the light slowly dims in his eyes, the final seconds of his life slipping away.

For a brief moment, a memory flashes through my mind. I see younger versions of Hades and me standing over a broken body with our father giving the orders to torture and kill.

My brother and I swore an oath to protect each other, no matter what. This man, lying in his own blood, was the source of our nightmares and the reason for that vow. And now, it’s over.

“You did this to yourself,” Hades whispers, leaning in closer to him. “Your own actions brought you here. Remember that,” my twin brother spits angrily.

The old man’s eyes flicker, and then they close one last time, his body going still. Silence descends in the warehouse. The only sound comes from the leaves rustling in the night breeze outside.

It’s done. He’s gone.

I stand, my legs feeling strangely light, almost as if the weight of his presence has been lifted from my shoulders. The satisfaction of retribution is a strange thing. It doesn’t bring joy but a cold, quiet relief. The world feels different. The air is clearer.

I look down at my father one last time. He was a monster, but even monsters have a story. I wonder, briefly, what made him so evil. It doesn’t matter now, though. What matters is that Hades and I are finally free.

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